Notes at the bottom. :)
He watched his friend walking down the path, away from the cottage and away from him. The other humans were there still, two people, standing close to each other, the male had his arm around the female. He could see that they were concerned, but he wasn't focused on them. He jumped down from the window and ran to the door. He waited there, his tail twitching in agitation, but when the people opened the door, they seemed to expect him to be there and prevented him from going outside. He gave a little mew of frustration and ran back to the window, but it was dark outside and between the glass and the light behind him, he couldn't see into the dark. He stayed in the window that night, watching, waiting and calling to his friend.
He knew these people somewhat. He and his person had been here before a couple of times, but each time they had left together. His person had never left him anywhere alone before. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this, but he did know that he did not like it one bit.
The couple treated him ok. They wouldn't let him outside, but they fed him, gave him a warm place to sleep, and they didn't expect much from him. This was just as well as he spent every day in the window sill, watching and waiting. It did take time, but the people grew less watchful around him. One day, they left the door open. He lifted his head and glanced lazily about, but neither of them were watching him or the door. In a flash, he was out the door and heading down the path his person had taken. He didn't know where he was going, just that he had to go.
The sun was bright, the breeze was cool and full of interesting scents, but tempting as they were, he had somewhere to be, so he slipped off the path and ran through the trees and shadows along the path. If he heard anything on the path, he would stop and crouch as low as he could, his whiskers twitching, until whomever ( or whatever ) it was passed by. Distance from the quiet cottage with the kind couple was gained, traveling this way, sleeping when he was tired, hunting for food when he was hungry. Some days, the food was scarce and he would just move on, but slower, sleeping more to conserve his energy for when there was something to hunt again.
Sometimes, he would come across a village or town. Here, he would wait until darkness fell, then he would slink in amongst the shadows between the houses. Periodically, he would stop, sniffing the air. He could find more food in the villages, but the overpowering and varied scents made by groups of humans tickled his nose and would make him sneeze, so he'd leave as soon as he felt confident his person wasn't around.
Sometimes, he would skip the town, not wanting to deal with the constant activity within the town's borders. Instead, he would find himself a comfortable spot and watch all the comings and goings for awhile. His favorite perches were tree branches that hung over the roads, and he could sit and watch the peoples and their contraptions move directly below him, his tail draping down and curling lazily.
Sometimes, he would find a comfortable hidey-hole to sleep in, only to be woken up by the sounds of battle. Sometimes, people against people. Sometimes people against creatures that reeked of death and corruption. These times, he would stay in his hidey-hole, shrinking back as small as he could make himself until way after the sounds of battle left and the smell of these creatures was cleared away by the wind. For nights afterwards, he would see these creatures in his dreams, coming after him, growing bigger, reaching with clawed hands that promised death with a touch. He would get little sleep on those nights, waking himself with a start as his leg would twitch and touch something. Those nights he would run until the fear faded.
More than once he had to fight a creature as he hunted or was not paying attention. Those were horrifying moments as he instinctively tried to keep from biting their corrupted flesh. After managing to out-run whatever beast that he found, he would wait until he could find water of some sort to wash with, not wanting to lick himself clean after these scuffles.
Sometimes, he would stop, look around, chase butterflies, bees or bat at the small snakes in the grasses, or just sleep on a large rock in the sun.
He had no concept of time. so he couldn't tell how long he walked, jogged, ran, and hid. He didn't know how many times it was that he had to fight, how many times he'd been so hungry and weak that his vision faded in and out with his heartbeat or how many times he had to hide from the vile corrupted creatures. He did, however, know that he now sat before a tall, tall wall. His tail swept back and forth on the hard-packed ground beneath him and his ears twitched as he stared at the wall, contemplating. What he did know was that underneath the smell of the sea, fish, unwashed people, and despair, there was the slightest hint of his friend's scent. More than he had smelled in a really long time.
He waited until it had been dark for awhile and the movement of the people around the wall had slowed down. Jumping down from his hiding place, he slipped into the city. He worked his way through the alleyways until the fish smell wasn't overpowering everything and sampled the air again. There it was again, stronger now. He turned towards the smell and headed down where it was even darker. Rats skittered past him, but he resisted the temptation to chase them. He did, however, note where they came in and out of the buildings.
Suddenly, all the rats and people disappeared and the night erupted with lights and sounds as people began crouched low and dashed for cover as the fighting came closer, two people stumbling right past his hiding hole. Over the sounds of battle, he could hear some of the people talking and one of the voices made him peek out. The fight had moved on and the alley was empty. With a small mew, he ran after the sounds of fighting.
He followed as the people fought their way to the center courtyard, never quite catching sight of them, but his nose verifying what he had heard. At the center courtyard, they were stopped by some other people, loud, noisy, clanky people that had skins that threw the light of the torches in all directions. He could smell the tension and part of him really wanted to run and hide, but he slipped forward through the shadows. He watched the people arguing, could smell the fear, the anger. He mewed when his person stepped forward - bright hair, bright eyes, soothing voice, though his cry was covered up by the loud arguing. He crouched, wanting to run to his person, but afraid of the other people. The ground shook suddenly and he pulled back, hiding behind a stone column. A few moments later and the people began to fight with each other. He waited, pressed low to the ground, ears flat and the tip of his tail twitching. Sometimes, his back end wiggled from side to side as he prepared to jump, but each time something would stop him.
WIthin moments it was over and quiet again, though the scent of blood and death hung thick in the air. He remained as he was, frozen, waiting, as a couple people left the courtyard. He did not like the way they smelled. It reminded him of the corrupted creatures and his skin crawled. His person was sitting, talking to someone else. Then without thought, Ser Pounce-A-Lot was running, springing from the ground to launch himself over the bowed head of bright hair, hissing and clawing at the flash of metal that arced towards Ander's back.
This was part of a writing prompt exercise in the Cullenite's Facebook group. My prompt was to write something from the point of view of either Ser Pounce-A-Lot or Barkspawn. As I've had cats for far longer than I have had dogs (although I love dogs just as much), I had to choose Ser Pounce. I have never written a battle scene, so there is a decided lack of them in this tale, although realistically, should a cat come across a darkspawn, it would likely run, but I don't think Ser Pounce is a scaredy-cat (pun intended). He grew up around Grey Wardens after all. I also watched "The Incredible Journey" from 1963 as inspiration for the middle part. Still made me tear up at the end. Ser Pounce walks for a long time, but he's a cat and so he can't say how long. It wasn't an easy journey and quite honestly, I'm not sure exactly how he found his way to Kirkwall. He's a cat and cat's always do mysterious things. :) Anyhow, I'm going to stop explaining. I hope you enjoyed this brief look into Ser Pounce-A-Lot's life!